


Sentience

by ravenswing019



Category: Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Angst, Bad Science, Canon Compliant, Friendship, Gen, Loveless - Freeform, More tags to be added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2021-01-02 22:23:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21168842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenswing019/pseuds/ravenswing019
Summary: An alternate take on Crisis Core through the eyes of a Genesis Copy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> line breaks typically denote PoV changes

The first thing he was aware of was the color green. As the sluggishness of awakening left him, more details presented themselves.

Through the green, he could see faint movement, bounded by a circular window. _Mako tank_, he thought, then wondered where the words had come from.

A shadow crossed in front of his window, its passage followed by a clanking noise as the mako began to drain. With the loss of the supporting fluid, he slumped against the edge of the tank, falling to the floor as the hatch released.

Harsh light, no longer filtered through the mako, made him squint, wondering how long he’d been in the tank. A pair of voices floated around him.

“Is that supposed to happen?” the melodious voice carried an edge of sarcasm.

“It should be combat ready…” The gravelly voice was accompanied by a scratching sound. “This one must be defective.”

He looked up at that, startling the two men who had been observing him.

The one in a lab coat stepped back. “It’s conscious!?” His clipboard fell to the ground with a clatter.

“Where am I?” he croaked. The scientist took another nervous step back.

“A lab in Banora,” the man in red spoke with the smooth voice from before.

“Genesis!”

The man in red ignored the scientist, opting instead to extend a hand.

He took it, and, with the assistance, managed to climb unsteadily to his feet. Aware of the eyes on him, he took some time to examine his surroundings. The ‘lab’, if it could be called that, consisted only of several mako tanks and a strange pod-like device. In truth, it looked more like a hastily-converted warehouse.

The other mako tanks were empty, and an identical warrior stood at attention in front of each one. Closer examination revealed that he was wearing the same clothes as the warriors. He raised a shaking hand to his head, brushing auburn hair into view. The sound of a throat clearing drew his attention back to the man in red – Genesis.

The scientist, however, was the one that spoke. “Perhaps we could discuss this at a later time? I will take the proper copies to join the rest. You deal with this one.” He muttered to himself as he walked toward the other tanks. “Were the settings incorrect...?”

He was struck by the realization that Genesis’s face was identical to the warriors from the other mako tanks. That, coupled with what the scientist had said about ‘copies’, painted a not-so-pretty picture of his own identity.

He took a nervous step backwards as Genesis stepped towards him.

The man sighed. “Settle down. I’m not going to dispose of you.”

“But he said to…”

“Hollander,” Genesis said with a scowl, “is not in charge here.” His expression showed exactly what he thought of Hollander. “Follow me.” He swept out of the room, red coat swishing in his wake.

He followed, more than a little confused, into the next room.

This room was brighter than the tank room, thanks to the floor-to-ceiling windows on the wall opposite the door.

Genesis was already rummaging through one of the cardboard boxes in the corner. “Catch.” The man tossed assorted articles of clothing in his direction. “There’s a shower through that door. You’ll want to rinse that mako off.”

“Why are you...?”

Genesis waved a hand in the direction of the door. “Infinite in mystery is the gift of the goddess. Now go. Shower. We can talk after.”

* * *

Genesis was waiting when the copy stepped out of the door. “Have a seat,” he said, motioning to the chair opposite his.

It sat, adjusting the collar of the dusky red turtleneck he had given it.

“You have a lot of questions, I would imagine.”

It laughed, “To be honest, I’m not sure what to ask first.”

Genesis began to explain Project G – slowly, as he’d only learned of its existence recently. He watched the copy’s expressions carefully. Damn. It was just like looking in a mirror. At least their personalities were different enough.

“What I can’t figure out is…” he trailed off, waving a hand in the copy’s direction.

“Me.”

“You. This. Conversation. None of the other copies has uttered so much as a peep. Their intelligence is limited to combat and following orders.” A thought struck him. “Follow me.”

* * *

He eyed the soldier standing opposite him. “Are you sure this is the best way to..?”

“A spar is the perfect way to gauge your combat skills,” Genesis said calmly, his rapier held at the ready.

He looked at the pair of curved swords in his hands dubiously. “I guess…”

Genesis smirked, his expression shifting from amused to dangerous in a heartbeat.

He parried the strike in the nick of time, crossing his swords to bear the rapier’s weight.

Genesis disengaged their swords and used the momentum to strike again.

He used one blade to deflect the rapier, pairing a sweeping kick at the other man’s legs with a swing of the other sword.

Genesis danced out of his reach gracefully. A devilish grin had made its way back onto his face.

He found that he was smiling as well. His body moved effortlessly from one stance to the next. The sound of blades colliding echoed around them.

But it came to an end all too soon.

Genesis overextended a parry and the rebound was immediate. His expression contorted into one of extreme pain, and his rapier clattered to the ground.

He caught the man as he fell to his knees, right arm reaching up to clasp his left shoulder. “Are you all right?”

Hollander scuttled out of the warehouse. He hurried to Genesis’s side and injected him with something out of a syringe.

Genesis’s breathing slowed, and his expression softened as he sank into sleep.

“What was that? What did you do to him?”

The scientist ignored his questions, instead muttering to himself. “He should have known better. The degradation seems to be progressing more quickly than I first thought.” He addressed the copies that had followed him out of the building. “Carry him up to his room, and do it quickly. The sedative will not last long.” They silently moved to obey.

He lingered a moment longer, hesitating. _Is there nothing I can_ – catching sight of Genesis’s discarded rapier, he found new resolve. He scooped up the weapon and hurried to catch up.

* * *

Genesis came to with a throbbing in his head characteristic of Hollander’s favorite sedative. The searing pain in his shoulder had reverted to the ever-present dull ache.

He sat up, taking in the familiar surroundings of his room, located on the upper floor of the warehouse. Someone had leaned his rapier against the nightstand, and his coat was draped over a chair beside the bed.

A gentle knocking at the door broke through his musings. “Come in,” he called, knowing that Hollander would have just barged in.

The intelligent copy from earlier poked his head through the door. “You’re awake?” he asked softly.

“Obviously.” He revised his opinion of the copy’s intelligence. “It would seem your combat skills are indeed on par with the others.”

The copy looked at its hands. “I don’t have any memory of learning to fight. I just...reacted, and…”

Genesis sighed, leaning back against the headboard. “Just another perk to being a copy.”

They were both silent for a while.

_When the war of the beasts brings about the world’s end…_ “How did it end?”

The copy looked at him in confusion.

“The fight.”

“You were hurt. I didn’t think I hit you, but…”

_Again._ “It’s an old injury. Irrelevant. What happened after?”

It hesitated. “Hollander injected you with something. You passed out.”

So the usual cocktail of painkillers mixed with the sedative. Damn him. If it weren’t for his promise of a cure…

The copy interrupted his darkening thoughts. “He sent me to get you – well, ordered, actually. Something about news from ShinRa?”

So Angeal had finally been deployed? Good. Perhaps he would have the answer Genesis had been seeking.

“Lead the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and thanks for reading! I've had this idea bouncing in my head for a while and finally got around to posting some of it. 
> 
> Sorry if it's hard to follow - the copy gets a name in the next chapter, I promise.


	2. Chapter 2

Wutai was not a hospitable place, he thought. Ninjas could be lurking behind any of the numerous trees, ready to assault you with swords or shuriken. Not to mention that this particular region was also crawling with ShinRa’s forces, just as likely to kill you on sight.

He watched Genesis pace from beneath his helmet’s visor. The red-coated man had become even more restless since their spar. Hollander had explained Genesis’s condition, how he was dying a slow and painful death as his cells gave up on him.

Having the same genetic structure imposed on them, the copies were all doomed to the same fate. It was a cheery thought, and not one he chose to linger on. He almost envied the other copies’ seeming lack of concern over it. Autonomy could be quite the burden, at times.

He was glad Genesis had talked Hollander into sending him along to Wutai. It kept him out from under the microscope, and it was nice to see another place besides the area around Banora.

If only it weren’t trying to kill him.

The reason they’d left Banora in the first place was because Genesis hoped to recruit an old friend to their side. His friend was still in SOLDIER, and had been deployed to Wutai as a part of ShinRa’s ongoing campaign.

Their temporary camp was located near the Wutaian fort at Mount Tamblin. Close enough to scout for SOLDIER, but far enough to escape the natives’ notice (one hoped).

A series of explosions from the direction of the fort shattered the quiet forest night.

Genesis’s pacing halted. “Time to move out.”

They moved slowly through the dense forest. Genesis held up a hand for quiet, and the group halted.

He silently moved to Genesis’ side. The man motioned to the path ahead, where two men in SOLDIER uniforms conversed with a man in a suit.

“Is that Angeal?” he whispered.

Genesis nodded, his expression unreadable. He signaled the pair of copies that had come with them to go on the offensive.

Their attack had the desired effect of separating the SOLDIERs. The younger ran off with the man in the suit, while the elder took a battle-ready stance and covered their retreat.

“This will need to be done quickly,” Genesis said. “I don’t expect the puppy to stay away long.”

He followed close behind as Genesis strode into the clearing.

“Hello, old friend.”

“Genesis?” the black-haired warrior whirled to face him. “Where have you been? What is the meaning of this?” He gestured to the fallen copies.

“My friend, the fates are cruel…” Genesis shook his head. “I’m dying, Angeal. My body is degrading.”

“How-?” The realization crossed his face. “Hollander…”

“He lied to us. They all did. You and I are nothing more than failed experiments...monsters.”

He interrupted before Angeal could respond. “Can we have this conversation elsewhere?”

The two friends turned to look at him, Angeal with confusion and Genesis with barely concealed anger. He stared back at the man, trying to keep a poker face.

“I think he’s coming back…” Better to suffer Genesis’s ire than allow them to be caught by ShinRa.

To his surprise, Genesis nodded and turned back to Angeal.

“Come with me, I can explain on the way.”

Angeal hesitated, but finally agreed.

Genesis tossed a Summon Materia toward the path in the direction where the younger SOLDIER’s voice could now be heard “to slow him down”, and the three made their escape.

* * *

The mood on the ride to Genesis’s base was somber. His old friend had waved away any attempted questions with a “Hollander will explain,” and spent the rest of the trip with his nose buried in LOVELESS.

Angeal then attempted to engage the young man who had accompanied them in conversation. He seemed willing to talk about almost anything, but couldn’t offer much information of his own.

Angeal regaled him with tales from their shared childhood, earning himself more than one angry look from Genesis in the process. After so many years, he was mostly immune to the glares that would make even a Turk change direction mid-stride.

The stories helped the young man relax a bit, but he still cast nervous glances in Genesis’s direction. Not that Angeal could really tell through that helmet. He suddenly realized something.

“What is your name?”

The young man seemed startled. “I don’t have one…” he said after a pause.

“What? How can you not…?” He looked to Genesis, who shrugged.

“If I had a name...before...I don’t remember it.”

“Before what?” He was starting to get a bad feeling.

Genesis sighed and set LOVELESS aside. “We may as well get this over with. Show him your face.”

With shaking hands, he removed the helmet.

Shocked, Angeal looked between him and Genesis. “What is the meaning of this?” Their faces were identical.

Genesis laughed bitterly. “Another question for Hollander. Apparently my genetic traits can be copied onto SOLDIERs...and monsters.”

The young man put his helmet back on. “I’m not even a proper copy…” he muttered.

Angeal sat back and pinched the bridge of his nose. First desertion and now this. What were Hollander and Genesis playing at?

The copy watched him carefully.

Shaking his head, he made up his mind. “We should give you a name, then.”

“What?”

He ignored both of them, putting some serious thought into the idea. Maybe something from LOVELESS? “Gen, one of the friends had a younger brother, right? What was his name?”

“Isaiah. He was the prisoner’s brother,” Genesis replied without hesitation.

“Isaiah…” the copy repeated.

* * *

Isaiah waited outside the warehouse. Raised voices came from an open window on the upper story. Apparently, Angeal could be copied too, and would ultimately suffer from the same degradation as Genesis.

He wondered what that meant for him, as a copy.

Movement nearby caught his eye. He ducked behind some old apple crates as two men in black suits came into view. They entered the warehouse.

Isaiah swore under his breath. Hollander had spoken of Turks—ShinRa’s investigative division. He hurried around the building to a rickety old fire escape. Hopefully he could get to the lab before the Turks.

Genesis wasn’t going to like this.

* * *

Angeal thought that Isaiah took Genesis’s anger rather well. The copy waited patiently for the man to stop shouting before delivering the news that there were Turks in the warehouse.

Genesis’s demeanor changed instantly. That dangerous glint came into his eye, and he looked at Angeal, who sighed.

“This isn’t a good idea…”

“We can’t just let the Turks do as they please, Angeal. Isaiah!”

“Yes, sir?”

“Angeal and I will deal with our visitors. Start helping Hollander get his equipment ready for transport.”

The copy nodded and moved to obey the order.

* * *

Modeoheim was cold. It was almost enough to make him miss Wutai.

Almost.

He spent most of his time patrolling or exploring the caves and excavation site. Both areas were full of monsters and not much else. He was on patrol when Genesis and Angeal arrived. Neither said much, but he could tell that something had happened.

Angeal spent most of his time staring at the massive sword he always carried around.

Genesis had an even shorter fuse than normal—probably something to do with the black wing that now extended from his left shoulder.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which decisions are made

Their informant in ShinRa was having a difficult time getting information to them without the Turks catching on, so Hollander had proposed that they send Isaiah to join the army.

Angeal was completely against the idea. "He looks exactly like Genesis! What is he going to do if he ends up in SOLDIER? You think they won't notice?

Hollander had thought of that. "His hair can be cut and dyed. If he continues to wear a helmet..."

"His eyes glow."

"So he fell into a mako spring as a child, these things happen."

Isaiah and Genesis watched the argument from the sidelines.

"You aren't concerned?" Genesis asked. "They're deciding your fate for you."

"_Legend shall speak of sacrifice at world's end..."_

Genesis stared at him.

He laughed. "I had to have something to do while we waited for you. I found an old copy in a locker." He raised his voice and stepped forward, interrupting Angeal. "I'll go. There isn't much I can do here, anyway." Not to mention the chance to get away from Hollander’s poking and prodding.

"Are you sure?" Angeal asked. "If you're discovered..."

"...death will be a mercy," Genesis finished for him.

"Forget the Turks, they'll give you to Hojo!"

"Hojo?" Another scientist? Couldn't be worse than...

"He's worse than Hollander," Genesis said, reading his mind. "Hollander at least remembers that you used to be human."

Still, _someone_ needed to go. "So I won't get caught," he said resolutely. "I'll be fine," he added when the others just stared at him.

Angeal sighed. "If that's how you feel, I won't stop you."

* * *

Genesis confronted him later. "I won't tell you not to go," _or how monumentally stupid this is_, "but I would like to know why." He stood with arms crossed, blocking the doorway.

Isaiah's expression was unreadable beneath his helmet. That stupid helmet. He could appreciate the fact that it concealed the face that was identical to his own, but it made the copy nearly impossible to read.

The silence stretched between them. Genesis's wing bristled in irritation.

When Isaiah spoke, his voice was quiet. "I wanted to make myself useful."

Genesis raised an eyebrow.

The copy shook his head, as though he hadn't meant to speak. "If I go to ShinRa, I can monitor the information they have on you and send a warning when they get too close."

"We already have an informant."

"Hollander said that he was having difficulty getting his intel to you."

He did have a point. It wasn't always easy for an executive to smuggle company secrets to fugitives. An infantryman would have a much easier time of it. And it needled him that he could see the logic so easily – not that he'd admit that to Hollander.

"You'd have to stay out of SOLDIER..."

Isaiah looked up at him.

Genesis scowled_. Don't look so happy about it._ "I still don't approve."

* * *

Genesis had been ignoring him since their last conversation, so Angeal was the one to help with his disguise.

Isaiah stared at his reflection in the mirror. His hair, now dyed a dark brown, was trimmed so it barely reached to his ears. He kept running his fingers through it.

"You'll need to re-dye it regularly," Angeal reminded him.

They'd finally agreed on a cover story: Isaiah was from a small settlement north of Cosmo Canyon. He'd gotten too close to a mako spring as a child, and his eyes had carried the distinctive blue glow ever since. He wanted to work for ShinRa to help do something about the dangerous monsters roaming the wilderness around his hometown.

Isaiah stood up, brushing some stray hair clippings off his shoulder. He checked the ends in the mirror. "You're surprisingly good at this," he told Angeal.

The man laughed. "I've had a lot of practice. Gen won't let anyone else near him with scissors."

"I can imagine..." and he could, despite only having known them for a short while.

Since he'd first woken up in the mako tank, Genesis had taken Isaiah under his wing (so to speak). Now, he could see that the red SOLDIER had been relieved to find some break from the monotonous company of Hollander (whom he couldn't stand) and the other copies (who couldn't hold a conversation).

Angeal, on the other hand, appreciated Isaiah's presence as a break from arguing with Genesis about his desertion. He'd trained Isaiah in various weapons, saying that he missed his student more than he thought.

He owed so much to both of them. Going to ShinRa was his chance to repay Genesis and Angeal for everything they'd done.

Angeal tapped him on the shoulder, startling Isaiah out of his thoughts. "You could still change your mind, you know."

He shook his head. "I made my decision, so I'm going to stand by it. Besides," he smirked, "keeping my word is the honorable thing to do."

Angeal grimaced. "You've been spending too much time with Genesis..."

* * *

In the end, only Angeal came to see him off.

Isaiah kept looking back at the base. Every time he caught himself doing it, he'd turn away with a scowl.

The expression was so characteristically Genesis that Angeal couldn't help but worry that it would immediately give his identity away. He had to keep reminding himself that not everyone at ShinRa knew the man as well as he did. But on that note…

"Be careful around Sephiroth."

"Hmm?" Isaiah looked away from the building.

"He's probably the only person at ShinRa who'd be able to tell you're a Genesis copy."

Something like doubt flickered across his face, but it was gone in an instant.

"I'll be fine," he said, more to himself than to Angeal.

The words brought to mind a memory of burning metal and plastic. (_Even if the morrow is barren of promises, nothing shall forestall my return._) He couldn't _not_ worry.

He clapped Isaiah on the shoulder. "Good luck."

A rustling sound made them both look up. Black feathers floated to the ground around them.

Isaiah knelt slowly and picked one up. "_The wind sails over the water's surface. Quietly but surely..._ We will meet again. I promise."


End file.
